Saturday, August 4, 2012

I decided to treat myself this evening and put some design
work aside so I could play with my own creations for a change. I’m in the midst
of laying the groundwork for a Call of Cthulhu campaign set to start in the
late summer/early fall and that means more paranormal fun in Wildwyck County.
The first investigation focuses around the small hamlet of Painter, NY. Those
of you who have Fight On! #13 will find it in area A3 in the map on the
magazine’s back cover.

Half the fun for a Call of Cthulhu Keeper is creating the
background and evidence an investigation requires. The following emerged from
this enjoyable aspect of writing an adventure, but it’s a little too long to be
included in the gazetteer portion of the Wildwyck County series of articles so
I’m sharing it here.

Located in the upper northwest part of Wildwyck County is
the tiny hamlet of Painter, NY. Situated at the edge of the Catskill Mountains
with the towering crags of Windswept Mountain staring down at it, Painter is a
quiet and quaint community far off the beaten path. With slightly more than 200
residents in the hamlet’s central community, Painter is only occasionally
visited by hunters and outdoorsmen seeking recreation in the wilds of the
mountains beyond.

Although the name conjures up images of bohemian artists at
work, the town’s name is actually a regional derivation of the word “panther,”
and its origin can be traced back to an event which occurred prior to the
American Revolution. That tale, recorded by the author Allen Vanderlyn in his
book, Curious Tales and Fanciful Legends of Wildwyck County (Royal
Oak Press, 1901), appears below:

Simon De Witt had a frightful encounter with the catamounts
along the shore of the pond that now bears his name. One of the many brilliant silver
oases found throughout our fair county, this pond was conspicuous, in times
gone by, for its large trout, and for the numerous deer that took drink from
its waters. One day in late summer, De Witt visited the pond in search of deer.
He sat beneath a towering tree that stood watch over the pond’s tranquil
waters, waiting for his quarry to come. While thus engaged, his attention was
drawn to a curious sound above him, and looking up, De Witt glimpsed a large
catamount (or as was known in the dialect of the time, a “painter”) perched on
a branch directly overhead. The animal stared down at him intently with
luminous eyes as if internally discussing the merits of taking De Witt for his
supper rather than a succulent doe. Believing there could be no benefit in
procrastination, De Witt brought his musket to his shoulder and fired. The next
moment he heard the satisfying sound of the great feline hitting the ground at
his feet, the turf and fallen leaves now awash in crimson.

The report of his shot startled other feline forms in
activity amongst the tree-tops and De Witt feared the wood filled with
painters. Fear clutching his chest, the hunter realized his great peril.

Knowing the aversion the cat-tribe bears for water, De Witt
waded into the pond up to his waist. As he reloaded his musket, taking great
pains to avoid wetting his powder as his endeavored to complete his task with
alacrity, De Witt counted no less than five panthers amongst the shoreline
trees. This number is uncommon for catamounts, who hunt not like wolves in
packs, but as solitary terrors, and the hunter concluded the beasts to be a
mother and young; the latter being nearly full-grown yet continuing to follow
the older cat on the prowl.

The hunter unleashed a fusillade of shots aimed at his
sinuous foes from the pond, bringing down three more of the beasts in swift
succession. The other two took to flight and were seen no more. De Witt then
waded ashore, skinned the four painters and made his way homeward, sensibly
concluding that it was a dangerous locality for the pursuit of a venison
supper.

The legend of De Witt’s encounter—spread largely by the
hunter himself—became a popular one in the ‘Wyck amongst the homesteaders and
eventually grew to be part of the local canon of myths. When the first residents
arrived in the area in 1817, they named the nascent settlement after the
numerous beasts that legend held ruled the sylvan vale and dubbed the waters
that pooled there “De Witt’s Pond” in honor of the legendary hunter.

I’ll leave it up to the reader (and the investigators) to
decide whether this story has any truth to it or if it’s just a frontier “tall
tale” or perhaps a bit of a red herring devised by a fiendish mind to throw
them off the track of what might be really occurring in the shadows of the
Catskills. If there is some truth to it, what could it mean? Are there
were-panthers prowling the woods of the ‘Wyck? Could there be a temple
dedicated to Bast erected by Hyperborean refugees hidden in the mountains? Did
De Witt later meet a horrible demise when he wandered into the Dreamlands and
found himself in Ulthar? I know, but I’m not telling…

Friday, August 3, 2012

So “Of Unknown Provenance” didn’t fund, depriving
generations of future gamers the chance to take a wander through the Night Archive.
It’s this sort of hole in our shared cultural landscape that allows “The Jersey
Shore” to keep airing, people. When society collapses, you’ll regret not
forking over that $20.00.

In all seriousness, however, thank you to everyone who did
contribute to the campaign and I’m sorry you won’t be seeing the adventure
anytime soon. There’s still hope it may appear someday in some form, but I’ve
got a heap on my plate to work through at the moment and projects with
paychecks attached to them take precedence.

Even though my project didn’t make the final funding cut, I
did get a piece of good news this week and it’s something very few other occupants
of the OSR tent can list on their resume: I’ve been rendered in comic form in
the latest installment of “Marvin the
Mage!” Jim Wampler was kind enough to add a cameo appearance of myself in
the midst of a tavern brawl. I think this means that the world of Marvin now
contains two RPG writers and designers as residents—myself and Tim Kask. The
place is certainly going downhill fast!

A very big “thank you” goes out to Jim for including me in a
small capacity in comedic schemes of Marvin and his cohorts. You can check
out the page here and play “Guess Who Mike Is?” for yourself.

Who's to Blame

Despite having never been a professional adventurer, Michael Curtis has nonetheless deciphered cryptic writings, handled ancient maps and texts, ridden both a camel and an elephant, fallen off a mountain, participated in a mystical rite, and discovered the resting places of lost treasures. He can be contacted at poleandrope @ gmaildotcom